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Chapter One

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement, and the avowal of all that he felt and had long felt for her immediately followed. He spoke well, but there were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than of pride. His sense of her inferiority---of its being a degradation---of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit.

She felt exasperated, and anger rose in her for his presumption. Should it be the first proposal she received and had to reject, she would allow her anger to answer for her as soon as he ceased speaking. But alas, it was not the first time she found herself in this position, and had still freshly in mind her considerations on that topic.

No matter how ridiculous a suitor Mr Collins was, it still made her think on the topic of what a proposal means to a man, and what it must be to him to gather his courage and approach the woman of his choice. Even if the suitor was as confident in his success as Mr Collins was, it still was a hard task for him, especially since he usually had no previous experience of such a situation beforehand. Mr Collins had been nervous, confident as he was in the impossibility of his being rejected. As a woman was expected to thank the gentleman for his addresses and demurely accept, the more the blow an actual rejection was.

She stopped to consider for a while what it would mean for Mr Darcy - he surely was not simply searching for any suitable wife as Mr Collins had been. He would not so easily turn away and propose to the next available girl, nor would he take her refusal with no explanation and go away - she was sure of it.

She could accuse him of many things, but not of a lack of understanding or a well-informed mind. From their battles of wit, she knew that he will enquire into her reasons, and though it was tempting to throw all her hatred into his face, she hoped she was better than that and could conquer the temptation to hurt him as much as possible, to take her revenge for the suffering of Jane.

In any other situation, if their chances were equal, or even to her disadvantage, she would laugh and tell him exactly what she thought. But now, when he made himself vulnerable to her, she could not take advantage of it, even if he would have done so, being in her place. She was better than that.

She must be strong, and so she would. She just needed not to look at him.

And so, looking at her lap, she imagined it was Mr Bingley she was talking to, and softly stated: "Sir, I do thank you for the compliment you pay me by your declaration. I am truly sorry to disappoint you, as I would be towards any man that I had to reject, but it cannot be helped. I am sure you would expect your bride to bring into your marriage, if nothing else, then at least feelings equalling yours, but I am not able to offer you this. I hope you will find a woman who will be as happy in receiving your addresses as you would be by paying them and thus will be more deserving of the title of Mrs Darcy than I ever could." In an effort to end the interview quickly, she rose - still not looking at him - and in a tone intended to convey his dismissal, said, "Again, sir, allow me to express how sorry I am, but you do not know me, and it surely would be a great mistake, had I agreed."

"Surely you cannot mean ... Are you refusing me?"

At least he was sensible enough to understand she was not one of those young ladies who torment respectable men as Mr Collins believed her to be. Oh, how she wished for this interview to be over!

"Sir, I hope you can see that all the objections you have toward me as your wife do not bode well for our felicity in marriage..."

"But I overcame them, as you can see from my proposing to you."

"Yes, sir, but you seem not to take into account that there are some objections on my side as well, that I have not overcome. Indeed, I had no forewarning from you that I should even attempt to do so. As you yourself struggled so long with your feelings, I hope you can understand that acting against one's will, reason and character is not an easy thing to do."

She was looking at him now, so she noticed that he coloured slightly at this, though she wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or of anger.

"Sir, I am not saying that I do not appreciate the compliment you pay me, but that alone is not enough to make me accept a suitor that suddenly appears before me. I assure you, I had no knowledge of your struggles or your intentions, for if I did, I would have discouraged you somehow in this regard."

"How could you not have been aware of the attentions I paid you, at least here in Kent?"

His shock was so evident, that it became clear to her that he was genuinely puzzled.

"The fact that a gentleman deigns to speak with me does not lead me to suppose he is considering me as a potential bride. If I had to, I would rather say that your cousin was acting more like a suitor, than you ever have …"

He became rather agitated at this. "He will never propose to you."

"As I well know, sir."

He stopped his pacing and stood there looking at her. She was a little unnerved, for his expression was unreadable.

"So you had expected to hear a proposal from me even less than from my cousin, and you knew his was impossible."

"Yes." She was tired of this interview, as being careful not to harm her suitor and the tension of not being able to predict his reactions was wearying, and she resumed her seat.

"I don't want to impose on you, Miss Bennet, but I hope, that even if you won't accept me now, you will at least allow me a chance to rectify the situation?"

She looked at him with confusion and then astonishment as soon as she understood his meaning. She had not expected that her gentleness would give him the impression that he could change her decision in time.

"Sir, please understand that, as I see it now, the gulf between us is too great to ever overcome. I had no intention of giving you such an impression or misleading you in this regard. I think that such an attempt could only lead to your disappointment."

She looked up at him then, but saw only his back as he was looking out of the window. It took him a long moment for him to turn around, his expression determined.

"I will take my chances, Miss Bennet."

She was at a loss as to how to discourage him, without openly offending him - which she had already decided not to do, even if she was sorely tempted.

"Sir, I don't know how to..."

He interrupted her mid sentence, "Miss Bennet, I am afraid it was quite an exhausting interview and you were not feeling well - you must be tired and have been long desiring my absence. I will now leave you to your rest. I hope to see you tomorrow."

She felt some relief that the interview was over, but also some trepidation that he had not truly given up his suit. "You and the Colonel will call to take your leave tomorrow?" she asked in an effort to understand his motivation in seeing her again, "You plan to leave on Saturday do you not?"

"We do plan to call tomorrow; the Colonel is to take his leave of you. My cousin has an engagement with his regiment, that he cannot miss, but I have no such obligations, so I decided to extend my stay."

There was nothing she could say to this, she could only hope against what she believed to be true, that this decision had not been made this moment.

"Have a good evening, Miss Bennet."

He bowed, and she stood to make a curtsey, and then he was gone.

Chapter Two

Elizabeth returned to her seat, her mind scarcely believing what had just happened. That she should receive an offer of marriage from Mr. Darcy! That he should have been in love with her for so many months! So much in love as to wish to marry her in spite of all the objections which had made him prevent his friend's marrying her sister, and which must appear at least with equal force in his own case, was almost incredible!

Despite the vast contrast between Mr Darcy and Mr Collins, and the difference in the wording of their proposals, she could not help but compare their offers. There were some striking similarities between her previous and present suitors: she had not knowingly encouraged either man, each had commented on her situation in society and at least hinted of the benefits connections by their marriage would bring, and most pertinently neither were easily dissuaded from their suit. However this time Papa was in Hertfordshire, while she was in Kent, and could not support her decision with Mr Darcy as he had with Mr Collins. There was no Jane to confide in and she could not speak of this to Charlotte. Her marriage to Mr Collins had irreparably fractured their friendship, and marriage was the last subject she wished to raise with her childhood friend. Charlotte would blame her for refusing Mr Darcy's proposal outright and would not be able to understand, let alone support, her wish to deny his offer of courtship. Her lips formed a wry smile as she thought that the only person in her immediate vicinity whom she believed would support her case, was the last person she would confide in. Lady Catherine did not impress her as a reliable confidante. She was on her own.

That she would refuse his courtship was the only option she could consider. Had she not felt such a deeply-rooted dislike, his dissuading Mr Bingley from his pursuit of Jane would be enough to deny his request. Add to that his cruelty towards Mr Wickham, his pride, his arrogance and his conceit then there was simply no way she could possibly accept his suit.

Her efforts to be courteous thus far had been rewarded with the threat of a week of unwelcome courtship from a proud, disagreeable man and she was sorely tempted to abandon all attempts at making measured and polite responses and let just her temper rule her tongue. But she would not allow herself to break her resolve to at least endeavour to be civil. She was determined to show him that for all her 'inferiority' and the disparity of their stations she could behave with good manners despite his behaviour.

The thought of receiving marked attention from Mr Darcy made her uncomfortable in the extreme and her thoughts were deliberating on how she could politely reject any further advances when the sound of Lady Catherine's carriage made her feel how unequal she was to encounter Charlotte's observation, and she hurried away to her room with one thought dominating her reflections: "I need to change his mind".

Darcy was feeling rather confounded. In a state of abstraction, he walked towards Rosings without being fully aware of his surroundings. Of all the possible responses to his offer he had dreamt of, ranging from her demure, blushing acceptance to their sharing a desperately passionate first kiss, he had never thought to consider her refusing him. When he heard her say the words he could scarce believe it and had found himself, rather stupidly he thought in hindsight, asking for clarification. A woman surely does not say 'you do not know me, and it surely would be a great mistake had I agreed,' if they plan to accept you. But he did know her, his mind cried out, and he could not agree that it would be a great mistake. Far from it, he could think of nothing better than to have her accept him. To have her comely form grace Pemberley in reality, rather than just in his imaginings could never be wrong. She belonged there as much as he did. He could imagine the delighted expressions that would brighten her face as she discovered the various walks there with him, and as he introduced her to his favourite haunts.

They shared a great deal, they suited so well he was amazed she could not see it. He knew her opinions in many areas and where he could not agree with them he could respect them. He admired her compassionate nature, her artless grace, and her unrelenting vivacity and energy. He could feel that their tempers, though different, would complement each other, they were evenly matched in intelligence and understanding. She was his true other half in all ways that mattered except the most important. He knew her well but his information had been acutely lacking, concerning her deepest feelings and thoughts for the future. She did not love him. "How did that escape me?" He mounted the steps to Rosings' entrance with a single thought running through his head: "I need to change her mind".

As Darcy entered the entrance hall, Colonel Fitzwilliam broke into his reverie, "Darcy! Thank goodness you are back - Lady Catherine is becoming increasingly difficult to mollify. Where have you been?"

Darcy continued to the staircase as he spoke, "Tell Lady Catherine I have business. You may wish to mention that I shall not be returning with you to London and shall stay another week. That should placate her."

"It should indeed. When did you decide this?" The Colonel flashed Darcy a sly smile. "Is not Miss Bennet also to stay another week?"

Pain flickered across Darcy's face at the mention of her name and the Colonel looked at him intently. Darcy paused, his hand on the banister, and fixed the Colonel with a cool look.

"Fitzwilliam, let us not talk of this now."

"When else are we to talk? I am to leave tomorrow."

"Precisely." Darcy moved quickly up the stairs. "Goodnight, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy hoped rather than believed his cousin would be so easily dissuaded from continuing that conversation and a little more than half an hour later he was made to wish he had locked the door to his rooms as Fitzwilliam unceremoniously entered, with a tray holding a decanter and two glasses.

"Glare as much as you wish," the Colonel said as he took a seat opposite Darcy and placed the tray on a side table. "I shan't melt, or turn to stone and I certainly shan't run away! You don't scare me! Before I leave tomorrow you shall tell me what has happened between you and Miss Bennet." His smile broadened wickedly. "You can speak willingly, but due to the time constraints I am not above resorting to Drastic Measures."

"And what measures would those be, dear Cousin?"

"As you see, I have come armed with a very full decanter of best brandy and if that will not loosen your tongue..." He poured himself a measure then leaned back in his chair, warming his brandy in his hand, and fixed his cousin with a pointed look. "Well let me say that Lady Catherine would be very interested in my information, and as I am leaving tomorrow I can leave you to deal with the consequences all alone."

Darcy paled at the thought. "Even you would not stoop so low."

"I am well versed in all forms of torture, but I will not have to carry out any threats if you confide in me."

Images ran through Darcy's mind of an irate Lady Catherine ranting about his lack of prudence and familial duty. He doubted not that she would begin strident abuse of Miss Bennet, and could even imagine her storming off to the parsonage to voice her concerns to Miss Bennet in person … he could not risk it. Darcy's face took on a resigned air, "Are you going to share that brandy?"

"Of course." He poured Darcy a glass, handed it to him, then settled back comfortably in his chair, "Now how is the parsonage this evening?"

"Civil, polite and holding out little hope."

"You sound rather desperate."

"I am rather desperate; it is hopeless."

"For goodness sake Darcy! Just ask her to marry you and end your suffering. A woman would be out of her senses to refuse you."

Darcy was very still for a moment, before he exhaled sharply and said, "Miss Bennet is not out of her senses."

"No, so she will not refuse you."

"She did." he replied quietly.

The Colonel sat bolt upright. "What?"

Darcy rose from his seat, crossed the room and leaned against the mantelpiece, staring down into the empty hearth. "I asked her. She refused."

"She refused to marry you? I can scarce believe it. What did she say?"

"She was very polite, gentle even."

"Did she give a reason?"

Darcy swirled the brandy in his glass and then quickly drank the entire contents, his voice came out slightly choked, "She does not love me; she had no notion that I loved her."

"She did not know of your feelings?" Fitzwilliam asked incredulously, reaching over to refill Darcy's glass, "What have you been doing on these early morning assignations in the grove?"

"Apparently, not enough." After a moment or two he continued, "She mentioned...she said you had played the suitor more than I."

The Colonel reclined in his chair, a wide rakish grin on his lips. "I usually do, do I not?"

Darcy turned to glare at his cousin. "You have spent the last few weeks endeavouring to make me jealous."

"And succeeding most admirably, I might add." His expression softened under Darcy's frown. "We were indulging in a little harmless flirtation, we both knew it, she would not be expecting a proposal from me - she certainly will not be receiving one."

"She was not expecting one. A proposal from you she saw as impossible; one from me she deemed even less likely."

"Either she is quite, quite blind, or you are an incompetent suitor."

Darcy bristled, turned away again and took another drink. He could not think where he had gone wrong but could not in good conscience pass all the blame onto the woman he loved. "Perhaps a little of both."

"An unenviable combination." The Colonel's brandy had warmed sufficiently and he inhaled the aroma before sipping appreciatively. "Is she worth it?"

"Without a doubt."

"Then court her and do it properly this time."

Darcy took another comforting mouthful. "I asked to court her, she tried to refuse."

"Tried to?"

"I asked...she said she could offer no hope, I said I would take my chances and when she began to reject me again I ... I interrupted her, said I would see her tomorrow, and left."

"That hardly showed good manners, Darcy, you ought to be trying to make a good impression!"

Darcy acknowledged the truth of it. "I simply could not hear another rejection, no matter how civil."

"And what do you expect tomorrow? Open arms?"

"No, of course not. I fully expect her to dismiss me, but I have to try."

"I can understand her refusing a proposal of marriage if she does not return your feelings - it is admirable considering her situation in life - but to refuse your offer of courtship outright seems rather dim-witted. Unless of course..."

Darcy turned to face him. "You cannot leave that sentence unfinished!"

The Colonel met Darcy's demanding expression and said calmly, "Unless she is in love with another."

Darcy raked his hand through his hair. "Would she not have said so? She did not imply anything of the sort."

"She may have." Fitzwilliam shifted in his seat, a smile playing on his lips. "Unless she was in love with someone who she had deemed would never propose to her."

"You are not suggesting she is in love with you!"

"I do not think she is." The Colonel's roguish smile widened. "But then again I could be wrong - she did not think you in love with her."

"I thought you wished to help!"

"Whatever gave you that impression?"

Darcy shot him a dark look then turned back to the fireplace.

"Very well," the Colonel said more seriously, "why do you think she tried to refuse your offer of courtship?"

Darcy racked his brain. He tried to recall her words but she had given no real reason. "She said that I had had time to overcome my objections but I had given her no time to overcome hers. I have no idea what objections she could have." He swallowed the contents of his glass and then refilled it. "If she does love someone else...oh that does not bear thinking about...I would run him through but that would surely make her hate me."

The temptation for Fitzwilliam was too much to bear. "How do you know she does not already hate you?" Darcy answered this only with a fierce look. The Colonel continued, "That could be her objection but she is too polite to say outright:" his voice rose to a falsetto, "'I will not marry you because I despise you'."

"If she does hate me I may very well kill myself."

Darcy's grave thoughts were stemming from him having swallowed, very quickly, some excellent brandy on an essentially empty stomach. Darcy had toyed with his food at dinner, much to Lady Catherine's consternation. His thoughts had been at the parsonage.

"I think your tongue is loosened well enough now," said the Colonel reaching for Darcy's glass.

Darcy stepped back, shielding his glass from the Colonel's hand, "No, not nearly enough."

Fitzwilliam sighed, "Hate is not so very bad - trust me, it is far better than indifference - remember hate and love are two sides of the same coin. If she hates you at least she is passionate about you. You simply need to work out the reasons behind it and change it to a more pleasant passion. If she is indifferent then you have problems, you may as well resign yourself to being little more than a brother."

Darcy let out a groan and returned to leaning on the mantelpiece staring at the dead hearth, sipping his brandy.

There was a long pause before Fitzwilliam asked, "How did she come to know of your objections?"

"I told her."

"Good Lord! What did you say?"

"I described the difference of our social stations, and how the family would be somewhat disappointed, and emphasised that my love for her overcame my struggles and I would stand by her in the future."

"Do you really believe the best way to recommend your suit is to point out her family's inferiority?"

Darcy turned to his cousin and looked incredulous. "What should I have said? That I rejoice in her inferior connections? Congratulated myself on acquiring relations whose condition in life is far below my own?"

"Of course not! You say nothing! Do you think she does not know her own situation in life? Do you think she does not know you belong to the first circles? Why do you think she thought a proposal from either of us so impossible? Of course she knows - you do not have to make her feel it so acutely, and certainly not as part of a marriage proposal. You tell her she is not worthy to kiss the ground beneath your feet, but you are willing to condescend to marry her."

Darcy stood staring into the hearth as he absorbed this new information. He raised his glass to his lips and took a mouthful of the aromatic liquid, feeling it burn its way down his throat.

"You make me sound like Lady Catherine."

"No, you accomplished that quite admirably with no help from me. Had Miss Bennet been as sycophantic as her cousin she would have undoubtedly fallen at your feet. But she is no Mr Collins! To fully guarantee that you will never see her again all you need is for her to draw the same comparison. You could not have alienated her more had you set out to do so."

Darcy sank into his chair, "What can I do?"

"Grovel." Fitzwilliam fixed a pointed stare on Darcy to convey the message that he had no choice in the matter, grovelling was his only option. "Is there anything else you should tell me?"

"No I believe we have covered all the salient points."

"You have a week before she is to return home. My advice is to think carefully tonight - not about yourself, you have thought about yourself enough, think about her."

Darcy laughed scornfully. He, whose every waking thought was haunted by a pair of laughing, sparkling eyes, needed no such advice. "She is never out of my head."

"Perhaps, but had you spared more than a passing thought for her feelings you would have realised she was not ready for your proposal."

This gave Darcy pause. He had wondered before how he had not noticed her lack of feeling towards him. This is how it had escaped him, she was in his thoughts constantly of what she was to him but he seldom thought of what he meant to her.

"You have improved my mood no end, Fitzwilliam," he replied in sarcastic tones, "I am the image of Lady Catherine - condescending and arrogant - with ungentlemanlike manners who has selfishly given no thought to the feelings of the woman he loves, who by the by is either in love with you or despises me."

"Or quite possibly both."

"Thank you. I had not considered that consoling possibility. But at least I can take comfort in the fact that she is not like Mr Collins. Why did I ever think you would be of the smallest help?"

Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations which had at length closed her eyes. She could not yet recover from the surprise of what had happened; it was impossible to think of any thing else, and, totally indisposed for employment, she resolved soon after breakfast to indulge herself in air and exercise. She was proceeding directly to her favourite walk, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy's sometimes coming there gave her pause. She remained at a loss as to how to dissuade Mr Darcy from his suit politely, without offending him. However she must meet him at some point: it would be very hard to hide from a determined suitor for the whole week, and as it would be best that this awkward first meeting was endured alone, rather than in the company of others, she continued down towards the grove.

The five weeks which she had now passed in Kent had made a great difference in the country, and every day was adding to the verdure of the early trees. Elizabeth was admiring a particularly fine specimen, just breaking into blossom further along the walk, when as the path rounded she caught a glimpse of a gentleman leaning against its trunk. His shoulders were somewhat slumped and his head bowed but despite this uncharacteristic attitude she knew it to be Mr Darcy. Reminding herself of her determination to be civil she fixed a smile on her face (which she hoped was not too encouraging) closed the distance between them, and called out a greeting. He looked up on hearing her voice and she noticed he looked tired.

"Miss Bennet, I am very glad to see you this morning." His voice held no hint of resentment. "I was afraid you would not come."

"I thought it best for this first meeting to be alone, sir, rather than in company."

"Then I am indebted to you," he replied. "I wish ... Miss Bennet, I beg you would accept my apologies for my behaviour yesterday evening."

Whatever she had expected him to say, this - the proud Mr Darcy humbling himself and begging her forgiveness - was the furthest thing from her mind. His behaviour was so strikingly altered. She knew not what to think, nor how to account for it. Elizabeth hardly knew how to answer him and it was a moment before she could formulate a response.

"Your behaviour was quite unexceptional, sir, you have no need to apologise."

"You are too kind, however if that behaviour was unexceptional for me then I am even more in need of your forgiveness."

"Mr Darcy, I---"

"No please," he replied, pleading with his eyes and making a small gesture for her to stop speaking, "allow me to continue. I did nothing correctly yesterday; I was selfish. Had I stopped to consider your feelings I should have realised that you were not prepared to hear my proposal … at the very least," he continued solicitously, "I should not have attempted it when I knew you were in poor health. Forgive me - I hope I did not exacerbate your symptoms? Are you well?"

The events of the previous day: the revealing discussion with Colonel Fitzwilliam and her subsequent tumultuous thoughts followed by the difficult interview with the man in front of her had certainly taken their toll. But Mr Darcy himself looked troubled, and with such an earnest expression in his eyes, she felt she could not add further to his anguish by confessing the true effect his ill-timed proposal had on her.

"I am very well this morning, sir."

"I am very relieved to hear it."

Darcy looked as though he would continue to speak then checked himself and seemed to be gathering his thoughts. By the expression on his face it was apparent to Elizabeth they were not pleasant. The silence hung heavily between them and she felt a pressing need to break it.

"Perhaps sir, if we are done with apologies, I need only assure you of my forgiveness and we can continue on the walk?"

"Would that that were the end of my apologies, Miss Bennet!" he said with a voice thick with emotion, "But I believe I can walk and beg at the same time."

Darcy looked at her with such an expression of regret in his eyes, her sympathies were awoken and she felt some guilt that she was the cause of his pain. Mr Darcy was evidently not yet ready to speak and the few minutes in which they silently continued together were some of the most uncomfortable of her life. Elizabeth could not bear to meet his eyes, and directed her attention to the wild violets and fresh new spurts of foliage peeking between the blades of grass at the side of the path. She contrasted Mr Darcy's apparent self-doubting with the look of security on his face last evening, which showed him to have been very sure of succeeding, and considered how such feelings must have increased his disappointment. She was heartily sorry for him, but felt his other feelings would likely soon drive away his regard.

"Miss Bennet," he said at last, "I have been trying to formulate my words carefully in an endeavour not to cause you any additional pain. But I must apologise for my failure to do as much yesterday evening. What was intended as a declaration of love became an insult to you and your family and I cannot begin to express my regret. If you can believe it I was endeavouring to prove to you that my offer was not rash, that I had thought through any and all consequences and was prepared to weather any resulting storm and protect you from it. I expressed myself very poorly and I fear I must have pained you."

During his speech, she had turned away from him as she walked. It had taken every ounce of restraint she possessed last night to remain civil to the man who had deemed her family 'inferior' and connection to them as a 'degradation'. She believed his apology to be truly sincere but though he had explained his motivation and expressed his remorse the pain he inflicted had only lessened by a degree, not vanished completely. The wound was too fresh to heal completely with a few carefully chosen words, no matter how heartfelt the sentiments.

"I cannot deny that I was hurt," she said in a quiet, tight voice.

"I hardly dare ask for your forgiveness," Darcy replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Neither said anything for a few moments; Darcy was the one to break the silence.

"I took my cousin into my confidence." His sharing of such personal information drew her attention and she turned to look at him. "He is a Job's comforter indeed, but it is no more than I deserved," Darcy continued. "He implied that if Lady Catherine were ever to propose marriage, that would be the way she would go about it. He hoped, for my sake, that you would not consider the similarities."

He was rewarded when he saw a small smile playing on her lips. It took Elizabeth only a very little while to fully appreciate his motives in revealing this to her. He was trying to make reparation by acknowledging that his own family was far from perfect, and in order to do so he had shared an embarrassing and private conversation in an effort to cheer her.

She arched an eyebrow as she replied, "You may assure the Colonel I did not draw any such comparison."

Darcy studied her face for a moment. "May I ask what you are thinking? I have often seen you with that expression on your face as you battle not to say something and I have just as often wished to be privy to those same mischievous thoughts."

Elizabeth began to weigh up her response and Darcy sensed her indecision.

"It is presumptuous of me, I know," he said, "and you need not humour me but let me tell you that if you are deliberating an unflattering comparison between myself and Lady Catherine I have undoubtedly already tortured myself with it last night and you would be saying nothing new."

She shook her head. "I was remembering a comparison I drew last night - not to Lady Catherine, but to another even less favourable, I believe."

"Indeed? Less favourable than Lady Catherine?"

Whether or not he felt any guilt in sacrificing good manners at Lady Catherine's expense, his question encouraged her to be more forthcoming,

Elizabeth looked archly at him. "Let me just say that you do not have the distinction of being the first to propose marriage to me."

Darcy stopped walking abruptly and looked positively stunned. "Please do not say you thought me similar to Mr Collins? Or was there another?"

She shook her head; she was mortified. "However did you … ? Lady Catherine?"

Darcy nodded.

It was indiscreet of Elizabeth to have ever mentioned a failed proposal, but to do so to a man who had suffered the same fate! She was desperate to reassure him. "Please be assured I had no idea that you would know of whom I spoke. I would never have mentioned his name - and I will never allow last night to become known!"

"Never mind that," he said. "I trust you! I am almost afraid to ask, but I must have an answer: did my comparison with Mr Collins run deeper than the fact that we both have the honour of being rejected by you?"

Elizabeth's mortification gave way to amusement. He was almost flustered; she had never thought to see Mr Darcy so. "Mr Collins is a very respectable man. Why are you so afraid of a comparison?"

"Because I do not believe you drew a comparison between us to prove 'respectability' is the trait we share."

She took pity on him. "I admit I did compare the proposals. And there again, not to the sincerity or manner of either man, merely as to the content."

"And there were similarities, other than the obvious question and reply?"

"There were indeed. Are you sure you wish to hear? You will not think me indelicate if I speak on it?"

"You cannot be silent now."

"Very well." She drew a deep breath and continued, "Both contained words of my situation in society; both, surprisingly - or not, I suppose - contained the thoughts and expectations of your family toward the match." Darcy scoffed at this. "I had encouraged the suit of neither man, yet both to a lesser or greater degree had some difficulty accepting my answer."

"Was I the lesser or greater degree?"

"Oh the lesser most definitely. I had to flee from Mr Collins after refusing him, as I recall, five times; each time decidedly less civil than the last. You, however, felt the need to flee from me."

"I should apologise, I interrupted you most ungraciously last evening---"

"Mr Darcy - It seems it is my turn to return the favour and interrupt you - indeed you do not need to apologise for that, the interview was uncomfortable for me and I do not share your feelings, I cannot begin to imagine what you must have felt. I do not blame you for wishing to leave."

He nodded and they walked a little way together in silence until she turned to him with a mischievous expression.

"Did the Colonel offer any other pearls of wisdom?"

"He did indeed, Miss Bennet."

"You do not believe that such obvious good sense, from such an astute and insightful source, should be shared?"

"Astute and insightful?" he asked dryly. "Well, he does excel himself on occasion. You have me at a very great disadvantage for there is little I could deny you, should you happen to ask."

She answered him with an encouraging smile.

"He compared you to Mr Collins."

"No!"

"Yes. He is indeed a most insightful and astute sage."

"And after such a comparison you no doubt congratulated yourself on your happy escape!"

"I shall end your suffering," he said. "After comparing my proposal style to that of Lady Catherine he told me that only a person such as Mr Collins could fail to take offence. Your character compared very favourably and therefore I must again offer my apologies for my poor choice of words and lack of judgment. You are very different from your cousin; you are a remarkable woman, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth looked at him and saw an intense expression in his eyes. She thought of his regard with a deeper sense of gratitude than it had raised before. "He is a very different suitor to Mr Collins", she thought, and felt the compliment of it.

"Last night you indicated that I could have no hope in winning you, do you still feel the same?"

She had seen a side of Mr Darcy today that she had never seen before, nor one that she had ever dreamt of seeing. He seemed to have left his reserve behind this morning, and had been completely open and honest with her. While they had never been entirely comfortable (their pain was too fresh) they had discussed difficult topics without resorting to arguing or anger and she had seen his heretofore hidden sense of humour. She could admit the possibility of a less contentious relationship in the future, something she had never before felt in his presence. As she looked at him, though, she felt Jane's pain and recalled his treatment of Wickham and she knew there was only one answer she could give.

"I am afraid I do."

"It is my heartfelt desire to change your mind, you must know that. I know full well that you are a woman of decided opinions and unless I can give very good arguments in my favour I have not the smallest hope of winning." She gave him a small smile here and nodded her acknowledgement of this to be the truth. "In the interests of fair play, can I call upon your sense of justice and kind heart to at least tell me of your objections to my suit, so that I may attempt to defend myself?"

"You have a hidden cunning streak, sir. Fair play? You have cleverly worded your request so that I cannot refuse without appearing prejudiced and cruel."

Elizabeth became lost in thought. She admitted to herself that she felt a strong curiosity as to what he would say to in his defence, but was persuaded that he could have no explanation to give. She glanced up at him and noted his hopeful look and felt oddly culpable for his present state although she had not knowingly encouraged him. She did not wish to pain him further, and she feared what it would do to him to find out that the object of his love, so far from returning his feelings, actually disliked him intensely. Oh, the power she held over him! Had she been vindictive and spiteful she could make him feel as much pain he had caused Jane.

"My reluctance to broach this topic," she said at last, "stems from a desire to avoid causing you unnecessary pain: your objections hurt me, mine may very well hurt you."

Darcy let out a breath, "I am willing to risk that. I only hope I can bear it with as much grace as you displayed."

"Very well, I shall tell you if you truly wish it, but not today. This interview has been taxing enough, and I ought to return to the parsonage."

"Miss Bennet words cannot express my thanks," He looked into her eyes with an intense expression that she had before mistaken for disapproval. She now knew how very wrong she had been. She reluctantly acknowledged to herself that if Mr Darcy maintained his current level of civility, a week in his company would not be so very bad. Darcy held her gaze for a moment, then glanced in the direction of Rosings then the parsonage as if in indecision and on checking his watch continued, "If you will permit me, I will return with you to the parsonage, my cousin should be arriving there shortly to take his leave of you and I would like to walk with him on the way back to Rosings."

She nodded her assent and they walked back to the parsonage in silence. They had come a little way toward understanding each other better. He had not changed her mind, and she had certainly not changed his, but they had somehow managed to agree to a mutually acceptable compromise.

Chapter Three

Darcy braced himself before entering the parlour. The Colonel was already stationed there, engaged in conversation, when Darcy and Elizabeth were shown in. He gave Darcy an inquiring look, silently asking whether the morning meeting with Elizabeth was successful, but Darcy offered no hints. Fitzwilliam responded by smiling warmly at Elizabeth, and, to Darcy's consternation, sat next to Elizabeth on the small sofa.

Darcy moved to stand opposite them, behind a sofa where Maria and Mrs Collins were seated. He was in no mood for company. The events of this morning and yesterday evening had left him drained. He had come to the parsonage solely because he knew the Colonel would be there. He was envious of Fitzwilliam's ease of address and the effortless camaraderie he and Elizabeth shared. Comparing Elizabeth's genial conversations with Fitzwilliam and the somewhat stilted ones with himself he could understand her difficulty seeing him as an admirer. Elizabeth's opinion that Fitzwilliam better fitted the role of suitor irked him. He wished to observe them together and this may be his last chance. He needed to see whether there was any truth to the assertion that Elizabeth was in love with Fitzwilliam.

"Miss Bennet I am very glad to see you. Are you well?" asked the Colonel, as Mrs Collins poured tea for the new arrivals. "We missed your company at Rosings last night."

"I am much improved Colonel," said Elizabeth, taking the proffered dish of tea from Charlotte. "I am sorry to have been unable to attend last night."

The Colonel raised his eyebrow and said knowingly, "I wager you are."

"Indeed, my fair cousin feels it keenly I assure you." said Mr Collins, "To be denied the pleasure of her Ladyship's illustrious company, and of course that of your fine selves, gentlemen, is a profound deprivation, indeed, and one which, I am sure, my dear young cousin has no wish to repeat."

Darcy found the rector an irritant, but his cousin was being deliberately aggravating. Needlessly (albeit subtly) referring to the previous evening could only make Elizabeth uncomfortable.

"Was it being denied Lady Catherine's presence," continued the Colonel, "or the lack of agreeable company at the parsonage which you felt more, Miss Bennet?"

Darcy did not miss Elizabeth's brief frown.

"I find solitude when one is indisposed is usually favourable, sir."

"Indeed it is." replied the Colonel, "Having to bear with company when one feels the need to be alone is very taxing."

Elizabeth took a sip of tea. Her glance toward the Colonel was cold. Darcy was not sure whether or not Mrs Collins saw this, but whatever her motivation, he was grateful to her for changing the subject. "Indeed, Lizzy rarely suffers a headache but some time in solitude usually does the trick, and as you can see she is quite well this morning. Colonel, do you travel to London tomorrow?"

"I do indeed, duty calls me away - I have business with my General. I leave very early in the morning."

"That must be a great loss to the family you leave behind." Elizabeth replied, sending a furtive glance in Darcy's direction, then continuing dryly, "How shall they bear your absence? You who are always ready with a kind word for any one out of sorts."

Darcy offered Elizabeth a small smile. She did not seem too offended at his cousin's impertinence. He was grateful to whatever it was that stopped her from joining in with the Colonel's teasing. He had no doubt that had she wished, between them they could have made him most uncomfortable, but instead his cousin had become the subject of her teasing rather than himself.

"Indeed Cousin there could not be any one in low spirits at Rosings," said Mr Collins, apparently unable to bear any possible slight to the fine residence of his noble patroness. "It could not be possible for anyone to be in poor spirits in so great a house with such distinguished company, indeed they could not."

"If by some great misfortune there happen to be any such poor souls in residence," replied the Colonel with a fleeting look at Darcy, "they shall have to seek comfort from another source while my services are unavailable." He looked pointedly at Elizabeth to show which source of comfort he had in mind.

"My cousin, I am sure," replied Elizabeth, deflecting such a responsibility from herself, "is always ready to offer an ear to any within his parish."

That had Colonel Fitzwilliam disguising an unrestrained burst of laughter as a cough.

Mr Collins looked smug. "Indeed I am, Cousin Elizabeth, to be sure Lady Catherine has repeatedly impressed upon me the need for a Rector to offer all possible consolation to his parishioners and her Ladyship herself condescends to pay close attention to the needs of all within the parish."

The conversation continued on such topics as travel and weather and London with no further reference to the events of the previous evening. Darcy said very little. He was occupied watching Elizabeth carefully, seeing if she displayed any symptoms of love for Fitzwilliam. But it seemed his cousin's teasing had not had the desired effect; he seemed to have fallen from favour. She was not unfriendly but was quieter than usual and what interactions they did have had lost some of their previous conviviality. Her attention seemed elsewhere. He was more than satisfied that there were no signs of a particular regard.

After half an hour, the gentlemen prepared to leave. Mr Collins entered into a lengthy dialogue on how honoured he felt to have such prestigious gentlemen call at his humble abode, how the Colonel's presence would be sorely missed, both at Hunsford and (he was sure) Rosings, "Indeed Lady Catherine," he told them, "has such a kind and compassionate heart, she could not fail to feel your loss keenly."

While Mr Collins monopolised the conversation, Mr Darcy approached Elizabeth. She had promised to speak with him again, but they had not yet arranged to do so.

"I hope the weather is fine tomorrow for the Colonel's departure, and also for your own sake Miss Bennet: I am well aware of your fondness for walking. I hope you have an opportunity to do so tomorrow."

She nodded in understanding and replied, "I thank you sir, I do plan to walk out tomorrow."

Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam made their way back to Rosings at a leisurely pace. Neither was willing to quickly put an end to this moment of peace by hastening back to Lady Catherine's company.

"I am rather disappointed with your Miss Bennet this morning," said the Colonel, breaking the silence. "I gave her a nice opportunity to tease you but she failed to rise to the challenge. I could see she wanted to - she had that impish sparkle in her eyes - but instead she answered quite blandly and as much as scolded me for not being kind. Whatever did you say to her this morning?"

"I apologised for my behaviour," replied Darcy, the sound of distant quacking drew his eye to the heavens, to a team of ducks flying in formation overhead. "She is far too gracious to mock me after accepting my apology."

"Ah - grovelling. Works like a charm." The Colonel seeing the birds that claimed Darcy's attention stopped, raised his walking stick to his shoulder aimed it skyward and eyed the lead bird down its length, following it until the ducks disappeared behind a tree and out of his 'rifle's' sights. "Has she accepted your offer of courtship?"

"No," Darcy replied a little regretfully, then added with more confidence, "But she has agreed to voice her objections to enable me to attempt to persuade her."

The cousins continued down the path. "And you have no idea as to what she will say?" asked the Colonel.

"None at all," Darcy replied, then smiling at his cousin continued, "I do not however, believe her to be in love with you."

Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. "I did not seriously believe she was! I am not the only other man of her acquaintance however." Darcy's jaw hardened; the Colonel placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and said, "You have done good work this morning, soldier. I was almost of the opinion the damage was irreparable."

"You were not accounting for Miss Bennet's goodness," Darcy replied. "She was rightly angry at my manner of proposal, yet she checked her temper and measured her responses in an effort to lessen my pain, while I was yet hurting her. She does not profess to love me and yet she was more concerned for my feelings than I was for hers. Fitzwilliam, I can draw but one logical conclusion."

"You do not truly love her?"

"No!" Darcy frowned. "I have concluded I am unworthy of her."

"If you believe that you may have a chance at winning her," the Colonel replied thoughtfully. "There is nothing more flattering to a woman than slavish devotion."

Darcy shook his head. They mounted the steps to the entrance of Rosings, each gentlemen lost in silent contemplation. As they reached the front door, Colonel Fitzwilliam chuckled and voiced his thoughts: "I would have given a monkey to see her let loose her anger on you."

"I have sparred with her verbally in jest," replied Darcy. "I should hate to do it in earnest, especially immediately after offering for her. I am in her debt."

Elizabeth and Charlotte were in the parsonage's small back parlour later that day, busily stitching, working their way through Charlotte's poor basket. Maria had been assisting them but as the quality of her work had diminished as she had grown increasingly fidgety and restless, Mrs Collins had sent her out into the garden before the smock she was sewing was quite ruined.

"Lizzy, are you sure you are quite well? You did not seem yourself earlier."

Elizabeth looked up from her work momentarily. "I am much recovered Charlotte, do not worry."

"Something the Colonel said seemed to agitate you," Charlotte replied a little slyly. "Will you miss his company so very much?"

"Oh Charlotte!" said Elizabeth continuing to make her tidy stitches. "Please do not try to match me with him - I shall probably never see him again!"

"When he took his leave of you, he expressed a wish to meet you again."

"I am sure he was just being polite - you are comparing his happy manners with his taciturn cousin and seeing love where there is only friendliness because of the great contrast between the two." As the words left her lips, Elizabeth wondered if she had made a similar mistake. Had she failed to see Mr Darcy's admiration for her because his manners were not as easy as his cousin's?

"I had thought one of them might fall in love with you."

"If only you knew!" thought Elizabeth, but she was not about to confide in Mrs Collins, her opinions on matrimony were far too different from her own. "I thank you for the compliment, but I did not expect it."

"I thought for a time Mr Darcy was in love with you," Charlotte said wistfully, as she completed a neat hem, thus finishing a serviceable shirt. She folded it and put it away before reaching across and taking up Maria's attempt at smocking. She began to unpick the worst of it, then, in a moment of perspicacity worthy of an oracle, she looked up at Elizabeth and said playfully, "He did not happen to declare himself on your walk this morning did he?"

Elizabeth's only visible sign of discomposure was a slight flinch of her hand as she pulled the thread through the fabric. "No," she replied in perfect honesty, if not perfect openness, "he did not offer for me this morning."

"Well, he has decided to stay an extra week, I would not discount the possibility."

"Charlotte I did not visit you to find a husband! I came for the pleasure of your company!"

"It is best to keep one's eyes open Lizzy, and as you will not - I have to do so for you."

"There is very limited choice here and Colonel Fitzwilliam cannot offer for me because he is a younger son and I have too little a dowry, and the less said about Mr Darcy the better!"

"You should not dismiss him so easily, you may find he is in love with you and will offer for you before the week is out! Stranger things have happened and you would be a very great simpleton if you were to refuse such a man because you have decided to hold him in dislike."

"No," thought Elizabeth, "Charlotte will never understand my refusal of him." She rethreaded her needle as she desperately tried to think of indisputable evidence to negate Charlotte's reasoning. Raising an eyebrow and wearing an impish grin, she replied, "Do not forget Charlotte - I am not handsome enough to tempt him!"

"Well, that may be," Charlotte said thoughtfully, examining the smock for any further wayward stitches, "but, if you set that aside for a moment, since then he has paid you some attention."

"Has he indeed?" Elizabeth sounded nonchalant but was, in truth, feeling a great deal of curiosity as to Charlotte's observation of Mr Darcy's behaviour. "I have not noticed any great attentions toward me."

"He has always looked at you a great deal - that is what set me off thinking he admired you. In Hertfordshire he spoke to you more often than anyone else outside his party. He singled you out at the Netherfield ball - by dancing with you and standing near you all evening. He has called here many times and I am sure he would not if you were not visiting. And was this morning the only walk where he happened to come across you?"

Elizabeth was not about to answer Charlotte's question and so evaded it by saying laughingly, "Do not tease me any more, or I shall repay you by making a worse job of this apron than Maria did of that smock!"

"Indeed," replied Charlotte, "I do not know why I trusted her with it! I should have given her a handkerchief to work on."

Charlotte had not been Elizabeth's friend for so long without gaining the ability to interpret her tone. She could not always appreciate Lizzy's sarcastic humour, and occasionally missed a witticism, but she knew when to cease speaking on a subject.

Charlotte's comments had given Elizabeth much to think on. Charlotte's list of Mr Darcy's attentions toward her were worthy of reflection. He had singled her out, not so much as a more gregarious man might, but enough to arouse suspicion. His propensity to stare at her she had presumed was solely to find fault. His eavesdropping she had dismissed as bad-manners - she had failed to notice hers were the only conversations subject to his attention. He had called at the parsonage, which she had attributed purely to boredom even though he was not a sociable man and found conversation difficult. In what a different light did his actions now appear!

Elizabeth could add to Charlotte's list - Mr Darcy had met her on her morning walks. His meeting her despite knowing it was her favourite walk was not do to with any perversity on his part, not some strange act of penance to be purposefully seeking out someone he disliked, but a natural inclination to be near the woman he admired. It seemed such an obvious conclusion to make she wondered that she did not see it before. She had wanted to believe in his dislike to such an extent that she had given his actions an obscure motive indeed! He could have misconstrued her declaration of it being her favourite walk as an invitation to join her, rather than a warning to stay away! She had perhaps unconsciously promoted his attentions. That was a sobering thought, indeed. At least she could now be more careful and avoid encouraging him, but then hopefully she would not see him over-much in the future. He had hinted at seeing her tomorrow in the grove for what promised to be their final conversation. Indeed, how could it be otherwise? Poetry could not kill a love as fast as the object of one's affections confessing their hatred of you.

How could she tell him that she disliked him without giving offence? If only Jane were here to advise and comfort her. Jane was a true proficient in never paining anyone and was sure to know how it could be done. Elizabeth smiled to herself as she pinned on a practical, spacious pocket to the front of the apron. She could imagine Jane's response to such a request, "Are you quite sure of your own feelings, dearest? Are you certain there is not simply some misunderstanding?" Jane would hardly be able to help her prepare for such a conversation.

From thinking of Jane's goodness it was no great step to think of her disappointment at the hands of Mr Darcy. She had thought of this a great deal recently after the Colonel's unwitting disclosure and could now only think of Mr Darcy's expressed wish to defend himself as to her objections. Elizabeth began to sew the pocket to the apron, ferociously pushing the needle through the fabric in her agitation. What possible defence could he have? He had not only separated two young people in love, he had boasted of it to his cousin. He was proud of his success, no doubt congratulating himself on being a step closer to securing Mr Bingley for his own sister. His objections to the match had undoubtedly been the very same as he expressed during his own proposal - inferior connections. She could add 'hypocritical' to his list of unappealing character traits. How could he possibly explain away all his behaviour? What of his treatment of Mr Wickham? He had reduced him to poverty, withholding the living that he had been promised out of jealousy and spite.

She paused in her stitching, thinking for a moment of Mr Darcy's earlier hope that he could show her the same grace she showed him, and mirror her attempts at civility. She had always been of the opinion that he was not a good-tempered man. Resuming her work, she remembered that Mr Wickham had said that he could please where he chose and hopefully he would choose to please the woman he wanted as his wife, though undoubtedly he would change his mind as to that as she catalogued his offences.

Elizabeth completed the final seam of her apron, folded it and laid it neatly in Charlotte's poor basket. She had thought too long on Mr Darcy and in an effort to redirect her thoughts took up Shakespeare's Sonnets and opening it at random, began to read. Unfortunately for her, the Bard had seemingly loved someone whom he had thought not handsome enough to tempt him, and her thoughts returned to Mr Darcy as she read the lines:

In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote;

Saturday morning saw the Colonel leave Rosings at an early hour. Mr Collins roused himself to make suitable parting obeisance to him, as befitting one of her Ladyship's esteemed nephews and a Colonel in His Majesty's armed forces. Lady Catherine bore the loss tolerably well. Although she was sorry to lose the company of the charming Colonel, her favourite nephew, Mr Darcy, remained behind and she had great hopes for the coming week.

Despite his hints at walking out the day before, when Elizabeth made her way through her favourite walk that morning, Mr Darcy did not meet her. Elizabeth did not know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. They were to have a difficult conversation and as much as she did not wish for it to begin, she wanted it over with as soon as possible.

Mr Darcy and Elizabeth did meet briefly after services on Sunday. Under the watchful eye of his aunt he could barely say more than a greeting before Lady Catherine practically ordered him to escort Miss de Bourgh to the carriage. He did, however, have time to mention that he enjoyed early morning rides.

The next day Elizabeth walked out, before breakfast, only to once again spend the time in solitude. On returning to Hunsford, she joined Mr Collins, Charlotte and Maria at the table.

"Lizzy," asked Charlotte teasingly, "Did you meet anyone on your walk today? Mr Darcy perhaps?"

"My dear Mrs Collins," said her husband before Elizabeth could make a reply, "I do believe that jests of that nature are in poor taste. Indeed, Mr Darcy is all but engaged to his charming cousin Miss Anne de Bourgh. Lady Catherine felt the need to personally speak to me after church yesterday to express her displeasure as to my dear young cousin's apparent over-familiarity with Mr Darcy. I had not thought such a display of disrespect possible from someone staying under my own humble roof, but now my own wife has confirmed it. My dear Cousin Elizabeth, had I known that your walks were an attempt to monopolise Mr Darcy's attentions, I should certainly have dissuaded you from such a course and may I advise against it now. It is a credit to you, to be sure, that you wish to secure your family's future and you may think that your charms can enable you to marry far above your station, but perhaps it is not wise for you to aim so high. I should warn you, my poor young cousin, that such a course will inevitably lead to your own bitter disappointment. I mean no disrespect to your good self, Cousin Elizabeth, but your charms are unlikely to appeal to so great a man, so intimately connected with the noble houses of de Bourgh and Fitzwilliam. My dear cousin, you ought not to attempt a connection outside of your esteemed father's sphere."

Rising pretentiously from the table, Mr Collins quit the breakfast room, leaving behind him one woman seething with anger and indignation, one red-faced and mortified mumbling quiet apologies and one completely bewildered.

Maria exclaimed, "But you do not like Mr Darcy, Lizzy!"

Elizabeth agreed with her statement wholeheartedly. She could not imagine why Lady Catherine thought her 'over-familiar' with Mr Darcy. She had approached him after services on Sunday and asked him whether he was taking advantage of the fine weather, to ascertain whether he was wilfully avoiding her, or their failure to meet was due to bad timing or some other intervention. But that was the first time she had ever initiated a conversation with Mr Darcy, at least in Lady Catherine's presence. She could not account for it.

"Oh, Lizzy, I am sorry!" Charlotte said. "I should not have said it! It was an ill-timed joke - and a poor one at that. It was just that you looked a little cross when you came in and I thought the only thing that would darken your mood on such a fine day would have been an impromptu meeting with Mr Darcy! Forgive me, please!"

"Oh, of course I will. I am not angry with you!" How wrong Charlotte had been! If she appeared cross it was because it was the second time Mr Darcy had failed to meet her!

Charlotte promised to explain all to Mr Collins and inform him that he was very mistaken in his views. Elizabeth hoped Charlotte would be successful in persuading Mr Collins. If he broached the subject again she could not be held accountable for her response and that would place Charlotte in a difficult position - between her husband and her friend. She knew Charlotte could only choose her husband and her already fragile friendship with Charlotte would be put under further stress.

On Tuesday morning she rose and dressed quickly before any other residents of Hunsford were awake, and was out of the parsonage and along the lane towards the grove before anyone had ventured downstairs. She had every reason to believe Mr Collins would object to her walking out today.

She had been tempted to disabuse him of his wholly misguided view - that the situation was in fact quite the reverse - but she realised that (if he believed her) it would little change his objectives. Whoever he believed to be in pursuit of the other, Mr Collins would do all in his power to quash anything that was in defiance of Lady Catherine's wishes. She thought it ironic that a week ago she would have supported any scheme to keep her and Mr Darcy apart and now she would not allow anyone to detain her.

She had successfully avoided Mr Collins' company the previous day, and had only three days left in Kent to evade Mr Collins and seek out Mr Darcy. She walked purposefully toward the tree where she had found Mr Darcy on the morning after his disastrous proposal. She had resigned herself to speaking with him before she left Kent and was resolved to do so. She could not reconcile his failure to meet her twice with his persistence for such a conversation to take place. He had seemed quite determined to hear her objections but his subsequent behaviour suggested he had changed his mind. Elizabeth knew he was a man used to getting his own way, perhaps at the time he had felt the need to get her to concede to his demand simply because she had opposed him, but now was too conceited and proud to countenance hearing her disapproval of him. Whether he wished to hear her opinion or not, she still wished to meet with him if only to end this feeling of suspense - to hear him say he had decided against it, so she need not think of him any longer.

It was a beautiful morning. A soft golden glow, from the half-risen sun, shone out between the gently swaying branches, and cast its diffused light over the meadows. Wild-flowers were unfurling from sleep and their light perfume was caught on the cool breeze. Songbirds were competing to be heard in the pleasing cacophony of the dawn chorus. It was a pity, thought Elizabeth, to spoil such a morning but, should Mr Darcy make an appearance today, that was the inevitable result. How could it be otherwise? If he remained determined to hear the reasons behind her refusal of his suit, she could not be anything but truthful. Her voicing her disapproval of his actions, and his very character, did not promise to be an agreeable conversation and it did not bode well that the morning would continue to be a pleasant one.

The sound of hoof beats roused her from her discouraging thoughts and in a moment Mr Darcy was before her, dismounting, and making his bow to her. They exchanged polite greetings and, with Mr Darcy leading his horse, continued along the path winding through the trees and between plantings of crocuses and daffodils.

Chapter Four

Darcy's relief in seeing Elizabeth was almost equalled by his gratitude in being free of his aunt and cousin. As soon as the Colonel had departed for London, Lady Catherine had announced her plans for the day. "I did not wish to mention it before, as it would not do to make the Colonel resent leaving us any more than is unavoidable, but as it is such a fine day we are to picnic at Crockham Hill."

Darcy could not politely avoid it and so the majority of the day had been spent thinking of Elizabeth while pretending to listen to Lady Catherine. His aunt had planned every minor detail of the excursion. A picnic for himself and Georgiana at Pemberley, while not lacking any convenience, was modest in comparison to the pretentious, showy event arranged by her Ladyship. All of Rosings footmen were employed in conveying chairs, tables, several baskets of food and cases of wine and, of course, arranging the large shade umbrellas and wind-breakers to protect Anne's delicate constitution. At one point, Lady Catherine had insisted that Mrs Jenkinson accompany her on a stroll, instructing Darcy to remain and keep his cousin company. Neither Anne nor himself failed to understand her intentions, and neither appreciated it.

During services on Sunday, Darcy had tried to concentrate on Mr Collins' lengthy sermon and not look at Elizabeth, but often found his eye drawn to her - more so when he discovered she was just as often looking at him. He redoubled his efforts however, when his aunt leaned across and whispered to him, "Yes, I too have noticed her trying to attract your attention. Such impudence!"

When Elizabeth approached him outside the church, Lady Catherine had been quick to insist he escort Anne back to the carriage as she was "quite done in after yesterday's activities". He had been trapped in the bounds of good manners and could do naught but comply.

Yesterday morning he had arrived downstairs to be informed in the hall that his horse was not in the stables. He was about to walk out as he was apparently being prevented from riding, when he heard his aunt's strident tones:

"Nephew, why are you dressed for riding?"

"I had planned on riding out this morning, Aunt, but I find Odysseus had been sent out without me."

"I cannot like this fashion for giving heathen names to animals. I had my groom ride him out, Darcy. You have not ridden him since Thursday and I am excessively attentive to all these things; it does not do to neglect one's horses. If you wish to ride you may take out Myrtle this afternoon; Anne is depending on you for company this morning, Mrs Jenkinson is visiting her niece today and Anne ought not to drive her phaeton alone."

He had no great opinion of Myrtle as a gentleman's mount and so did not care to ride her, but had walked out later in the day in a futile attempt at meeting Miss Bennet and had paid a call at the parsonage, but the ladies were not at home.

This morning, Mrs Jenkinson had returned, his chastened groom was under explicit orders not to allow his horse out without his express command, and due to Anne's poor health and limited pursuits Lady Catherine seemed to have run out of activities with which to confine Darcy to the house, so he had made his escape. He savoured the feeling of freedom, filled his lungs with the crisp morning air, and turned to Elizabeth and smiled.

She looked up at him and said archly, "It is so good of you to join me, Mr Darcy."

"I very much wished to meet you before now, to continue our conversation," Darcy offered by way of apology. "My aunt, however, had other ideas." If his frustration of the situation was not apparent in his voice it was made abundantly clear by his lashing out with his riding crop and decapitating an errant daffodil.

She arched an eyebrow and speculated, "Lady Catherine missed the company of the Colonel and felt the need to see twice as much of you to make up for his absence?"

Darcy raised an eyebrow in return, "No, I believe she mistook my reasons for lengthening my stay."

"Ah, she believes it to be a compliment to her daughter."

They had reached the gate to a field of sheep and Darcy led his horse inside.

"I would extol your astuteness," he replied, as he loosened the saddle girth, "but I believe my aunt has done little to conceal her desires. However, let me assure you I feel only for Anne that which a cousin should feel, and no more. I will never marry her."

"May I ask Miss de Bourgh's feelings on the matter?" Elizabeth asked with no little curiosity.

"Please, feel free to ask me whatever questions you desire," he replied gallantly. He moved to Odysseus' head and unbuckled the bridle. "She feels as I do - we discussed the matter some years ago and decided we would not suit and said as much to Lady Catherine."

As his horse wandered off and began to graze, Darcy came back to the lane and hung the bridle on the gate.

"And yet Lady Catherine persists in her endeavour?" asked Elizabeth.

"She believes that if she throws us together often enough," he replied dryly, "we will 'do our duty to the family'."

Elizabeth responded with equal dryness, "I see. Another similarity between you and your aunt."

His brow raised again, "How so?"

"You believe that if we are thrown together often enough I shall accept you, do you not?"

"Ah, but then I believe we would suit;" he said smilingly. "Anne and I do not."

Elizabeth looked at him speculatively for a moment. "I do not know that we would suit."

"Is this one of your 'objections'?"

"Yes, I suppose it is."

"Well then, let me attempt to defend my position." Mr Darcy gathered his thoughts for a moment then asked, "Which are the members of your family with whom you spend the majority of your time?"

She frowned in curiosity, "My elder sister and my father."

"And Mrs Collins is a particular friend of yours?"

"She is."

"Three very different individuals, yet there are some similarities - all are intelligent with their own distinct view of the world. All, I imagine, challenge your opinions, yet respect them and all three are quite reserved. Would you not agree?"

"Yes."

"And whom do I choose as my closest companions? - You know Mr Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Lively, confident, good conversationalists, who are intelligent with well informed minds and are not slow to voice their opinions should they disagree with me." Darcy raised his eyebrow and cast her an eloquent look.

She was thoughtful for a moment and was almost successful in masking her annoyance when she replied , "I can understand your view. You believe you are similar to my close companions and I to yours, but," she met his eye, "I do not wish to become what Mr Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam are to you."

"And what is that?" asked Mr Darcy, confused as to her meaning.

"Someone to have at your disposal," she replied with a look full of challenge.

Darcy's eyes widened. "I would not wish you to be! That is not how I view a happy marriage! And that is not how I see my relationship with either my cousin or my friend. May I ask what gave you that impression?"

"A conversation I had with the Colonel - we met in the grounds, I asked if he was leaving on Saturday, he replied in the affirmative then added something like 'if my cousin doesn't put it off again - I am at his disposal, he arranges it all as he pleases'."

Darcy considered this a moment, his expression betraying his incredulity. Elizabeth had a view of his relationship with the Colonel that was very wide of the mark. It would be laughable had it been anyone else, but Elizabeth's opinion of him had important ramifications. She had known the Colonel for just three weeks, and Lady Catherine's drawing rooms were not conducive to anyone displaying their typical behaviour. His aunt dominated all conversation and did not inspire openness in her guests. Elizabeth had barely seen them interact with each other so she could not know the true nature of their relationship. Fitzwilliam's easy manners gave him the impression of being easily influenced but he was a battle hardened officer who was used to making his own decisions and was firmly resolute. She could not know how Fitzwilliam only took orders from his commanding officers, and would hardly countenance any attempt at interference or high-handedness from his younger cousin.

"I can easily understand that from what he implied you might think he is a pawn subject to my whims, but that is not truly the case., he replied seriously. "I must come to Rosings every year as I take care of some estate matters for my aunt, but as Lady Catherine insists on Anne and I spending much time together, my cousin volunteers his services to act as chaperone. I have a very great respect for him - he is certainly not my puppet."

"I see," she replied, her brow furrowed, "and Mr Bingley? You do not take a lively concern into his interests and direct him as you deem appropriate?"

Elizabeth's picture of his relationship with Bingley concerned him greatly. It seemed she thought of Bingley as being subject to Darcy's inclinations, apparently as someone to direct simply as the mood took him. This was no compliment to either gentleman. He was beginning to realise Elizabeth's view of him was more than a little awry, and he felt it keenly. But at least now he understood her reluctance to allow his suit. He could easily understand why such an independent woman would take exception to being courted by someone she held to be so overbearing. In her estimation, Darcy seemed dictatorial and Bingley weak-willed and pathetic. He did not believe that to be a true likeness in either case. Bingley showed self-assurance in dealing with social situations, he was resilient when it came to dealing with the ton and displayed strength and resolution in his business dealings. However Bingley was of a ductile and impulsive nature and therefore was often in danger of being lead astray by unscrupulous men who did wish to 'direct him as they deemed appropriate'. Darcy cared a great deal for Bingley and so was concerned in his interests but he hoped not to a despotic degree. If the Colonel took the role of older brother, Bingley was like a younger brother to him.

"I would not go so far as to say I am at his disposal," Darcy replied. "but he does come to me for advice on a variety of matters. At Netherfield I was there, in part, to be of assistance to him with the estate. I can not see why you believe he is under my control."

Elizabeth considered his words for a long moment. She was willing to admit that her evaluation of the cousins' relationship was amiss, but she had more substantial evidence that his dealings with Mr Bingley could not be explained away so easily. "That leads neatly to my next point." Elizabeth responded dryly.

"Before we move on," said Darcy, " let me clarify my position regarding our compatibility and my apparent tendency to be autocratic: If I wished for a biddable wife to be 'at my disposal', I made a great mistake in offering for you! You clearly have firm opinions of your own and are not afraid to voice them. I respect that - more than that, it is one of your many attributes that attracted me to you. I would not have you be any other way. We may be very different individuals, with different temperaments but our minds are well matched - neither of us want for intelligence or understanding - and we ought to complement each other rather than clash. I am convinced we would suit very well indeed."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. He respected, and even professed to value, her inclination towards being opinionated! She ought not to have been so surprised, "After his previous comments on my not being tempting, I could scarcely believe he was won over by a pretty face!" she thought. However, she had reservations as to his insight: she could not agree with his estimation that they would complement rather than clash. They always seemed to be in conflict; that would suggest nothing but a discordant marriage.

"You said when you refused me that I do not know you," Darcy continued earnestly. "I think it more likely that you do not know me, and I should like to repair that. I do not have your gift of making easy conversation, but I have listened to you: we share opinions on many matters, and where we do not I can respect yours. You are a remarkable woman: sincere, highly intelligent with an uncommon wit, a kind and compassionate heart and loyalty to your friends and family. It would be impossible to find your equal; I am quite resolved to convince you."

Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. It seemed so strange - a few days ago she was convinced Mr Darcy looked at her only to find fault and he was now saying such things about her! She smiled incredulously and turned to him with an arched brow. "You are equally resolved to feed my vanity, it seems, and I know you deem that a true weakness."

Darcy smiled broadly. "Did I mention that you are the handsomest woman of my acquaintance?"

Elizabeth laughed. How could she rise from barely tolerable to an unmatched beauty? "Now you go too far! I had almost believed you until you said that!"

She was shaking her head and looking away from him, when she sensed his eyes on her. Turning and meeting his gaze she was met with such an expression of sincerity and adoration that she was taken aback.

"Indeed, I was in earnest," he said in a low, quiet voice.

She blushed, as his eyes held her transfixed, and looked up at him in wonder. For a moment she believed she was beyond compare, at least in his opinion. He smiled warmly at her before his face became more serious, and he asked, "What is your second objection?"

Elizabeth's face fell and she turned away from Mr Darcy. Jane! It was no good for to be so affected by the flattery of a handsome man that she forgot the pain he had caused her sister. No motive could excuse the part he played in separating her beloved Jane and Mr Bingley. Taking a deep steadying breath and remembering her resolution to speak with civility, she attempted to speak without revealing the resentment in her voice, "Even if you do not consider Mr Bingley to be at your disposal, you cannot disagree that you possess a seemingly boundless influence over him. Jane is my dearest sister; I could not accept the man who had done all in his power to break her heart. You persuaded Mr Bingley to stay away from her."

Darcy's eyes widened, shock and disbelief evident on his face. "Break her heart?"

Elizabeth stopped walking abruptly and swung round to face Darcy. "Can you deny that you separated them?"

"No, I cannot deny it."

Elizabeth eyes flashed with suppressed anger, "And that you wished Mr Bingley to form an attachment to your own sister?"

Darcy's eyes widened in surprise. "I cannot deny that had Bingley and Georgiana wished to marry at some point in the future, I would have encouraged the match, but at present Georgiana is just sixteen and is not yet out, and will not be presented for another year. I do, however, deny that which you were implying - that I separated Bingley from your sister in an effort to keep him unattached until such a time as Georgiana may be amenable to his suit. It was a distant possibility I considered, nothing more. I had other reasons to act as I did."

"Our inferior connections perhaps?" she asked coldly. "Our one uncle in trade and the other a lowly country attorney."

"Not entirely." Darcy closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his forehead. "Bingley's own fortune was made in trade and the law is a respectable profession."

"I cannot believe you have objections against Jane herself," she said incredulously. "She is all that is good and blameless."

"Did your sister love Bingley?"

The question surprised Elizabeth; she had thought the answer obvious. "I believe she still does."

"I did not believe that she did." he responded calmly.

Elizabeth found that impossible to believe, and it showed on her face.

Darcy frowned. "She welcomed my friend's attentions, and seemed to accept them with pleasure, but did not appear to encourage them. Her countenance was so serene, her air so complacent - I did not think her heart easily touched. Your mother did not hide her ... aspirations and I thought Miss Bennet may have been pressured to marry without affection. I could not wish for such an unequal partnership for my friend."

Mama had voiced her opinions often, and loudly, and Elizabeth could not deny that she would have demanded Jane accept a proposal, even had Jane been unwilling. Mr Darcy could not know that her usually indolent father would exert himself to protect his daughters from an unhappy marriage. Elizabeth thought on Jane's behaviour toward Mr Bingley. She thought it very hard for a woman to encourage a man without appearing forward or artful.

"She is a lady, sir! How would you expect her to act? She may not wear her heart on her sleeve but I assure you she feels deeply attached to Mr Bingley."

"It must be that her intimate companions would have a better idea as to her heart than a mere acquaintance."

"It is true her feelings were apparent to me," Elizabeth said after a moment, in a more subdued voice, "but Charlotte advised me that Jane should show more affection to Mr Bingley. I believed that to be flawed advice."

"May I ask why?"

"She made the suggestion while their relationship was in its infancy. We did not know Mr Bingley - we were unsure of his character - and could not know whether Jane's attraction would deepen. I did not think it wise. Perhaps I should have remembered the advice later on."

Darcy nodded thoughtfully.

Elizabeth sighed, "It is unfair that she should now be subject to such sorrow for behaving within the bounds of decorum!"

"It is an unfortunate result, indeed. I did not consciously inflict such pain - I truly thought her indifferent, that was not the sole reason behind my advice but was the most weighty."

"There were other reasons? Beyond your belief of her indifference and our lack of connections?"

"There were," he replied gently and somewhat warily. "It is a delicate matter and I know not how to broach such a subject without giving offence or paining you. However … for example, when I recall the Netherfield Ball … while you and your elder sister acted above reproach, and always behaved with the utmost propriety, the same cannot be said for other members of your family---"

"Please say no more, sir." Elizabeth said in quiet, mortified tones. At his mention of the ball, unwelcome thoughts, long ago evicted from her memory, had returned - her youngest sisters flirting shamelessly with the officers, Mr Collins' voluble orations and audacity in speaking to Mr Darcy without a proper introduction, her mother's effusions of the merits of the match between Jane and Bingley, Mary's inferior musical performance and her father's ill-judged interruption of it. She shook her head and said in tones of bitter humiliation, "My family seemed determined to expose themselves that evening."

Elizabeth closed her eyes in embarrassment, and bit her lip. The full force of her agonising feelings of that night overtook her with the added sting of her now knowing that Jane's disappointment had stemmed not only from Elizabeth's dismissal of Charlotte's advice but, to a greater degree, her own nearest relations' behaviour. She had accused Mr Darcy of acting cruelly but it appeared now he was working to protect his friend from a loveless marriage complete with unseemly relations. Who could not consider it a most unhappy connection? Her sense of shame was severe. Her spirits, usually far from giving way to depression, were overwhelmed with an intense feeling of sadness. She turned away from Mr Darcy, drew in a shuddering breath and tried to stay the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes.

Elizabeth felt a tentative touch on her elbow and allowed Mr Darcy to gently steer her toward a fallen log. She sank onto it, welcoming the support it offered. Darcy pressed his handkerchief into her gloved palm then he stood a little away from her, observing her in compassionate silence. In her distress, she began distractedly twisting his handkerchief in her hands and allowing the tears to fall unheeded.

"I do not wonder that you fled Netherfield so soon afterwards." Her tone was quiet. "My only surprise is that such events are not so indelibly imprinted on your memory that you forget them long enough to attempt a connection with such a family!"

Mr Darcy sighed, and sat down next to her. "I cannot deny that such a thought terrified me at one time but my love for you grew, and it continues to do so."

He rescued his handkerchief from her abusive fidgeting, and placing one finger under her chin turned her face toward him and began drying her cheeks. In shock at his actions, and due to the depths of her distress, Elizabeth made no protest. She had not had her tears dried by another since being a small child.

Mr Darcy continued, "When love becomes strong enough there are few other feelings that cannot be overcome. I cannot say that I do not wish they behaved differently but your family are not cruel or vicious. Your mother is attempting to ensure her daughters' happiness and security for their future - I cannot fault those motives. Your sisters are young and with time may mellow and find maturity and your father does little to contribute to any reproach." Darcy released her chin and began to smooth the creases from the now damp square of linen. "Your and Miss Bennet's behaviour is above reproach and it is to your credit that you have conducted yourselves in such a way as to avoid any share of censure. I believe that if I had not attempted to persuade him that your sister was indifferent, Bingley too would not have so easily given up his suit. My belief of her indifference has caused their present unhappiness. Your understanding of Miss Bennet's feelings must be superior to mine and so your reproach is just."

Mr Darcy's reassuring words had alleviated Elizabeth's distress a little. She was able to compose herself tolerably. It humbled her that that was the best he could say about her family and mortified her that she could say little better. The compliment to herself and Jane soothed her somewhat, but she felt the credit of both in the eyes of the world must be materially damaged by the impropriety of the rest of her family. Darcy carefully folded his handkerchief and returned it to his pocket. It would never be laundered.

"Does your sister remain in Town?" he asked.

"She does." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Bingley is ignorant of her being there. I have not told him. I did not like keeping it from him - I was thinking only to protect him from further heartache - such disguise went sorely against the grain. I assure you, however, that I will speak to Bingley as soon as I return to London and confess all. It will be up to Bingley what happens from there. I can only offer my sincere apologies for injuring your sister, but I cannot say that I would not act the same way again." Elizabeth stiffened and was about to disagree strongly but he was quick to defend himself, "I believed I was protecting my friend. What would you do were the situations reversed? If you had a dear friend you believed was making an unequal marriage would you not at least attempt to persuade them?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment. As much as she wished to deny it she could not. "I admit I did try to persuade Charlotte not to marry Mr Collins. I cannot condemn you for wishing to protect your friend, nor for having greater persuasive skills than mine."

Elizabeth's thoughts began to consider the irony of the situation. Mr Darcy had failed to see the attraction for his friend in one sister and had separated them, and had failed to see the dislike in the other sister and had proposed. She wondered what Mr Darcy would have done if, before his proposal, a good friend had informed him as to her true feelings. Would he have abandoned his suit as Bingley had done? Given his present determination to win her heart she doubted it. Was Mr Bingley's character in some way lacking? He could be considered weak-willed and irresolute. Was he worthy of Jane? Perhaps his attachment to Jane had not reached the same fervour Mr Darcy apparently felt. Mr Darcy had needed this time with her in Kent to consider proposing. Perhaps had someone told him of her true feelings at the time of the Netherfield ball he would not have shown the same commitment. She thought it a great pity someone had not done so. Perhaps Mr Bingley did not lack resolution; maybe he had simply needed more time to strengthen his attachment. She decided to probe Mr Darcy as to Mr Bingley's character.

"You have perhaps hurt your friend more than you know - gossip was rife when the Netherfield party left with no hint of a return. Hertfordshire society, in general, thinks him inconstant and capricious."

"That is not so. He is impulsive by nature, but his actions here stemmed from his very great natural modesty. It was easy for him to believe himself wrong regarding your sister's affections when I and his sisters were convinced we were correct. Was your sister affected by gossip?"

"It was generally thought she was jilted." Her sadness at the recollection was apparent in her tone. "That is why I encouraged her to go to London. She would be away from the whispers and pitying looks and it would be easier for her to endeavour to forget about him without constant reminders."

"I am very sorry to have indirectly subjected her to gossip," he replied. "What would the Netherfield party's reception be should they return to Hertfordshire?"

"Mr Bingley was very well liked," she replied a little more cheerfully, "despite his apparent inconstancy, and I am sure he will be very welcome, should he return, there would however be some speculation about him and Jane."

"That is unavoidable, I suppose." He sighed. "I note you do not mention the rest of the Netherfield party - what is their reputation?"

Elizabeth had enough acuity to realise he was asking for more than Hertfordshire's opinion of the Netherfield party - he was asking for her opinion of him. She did not know how to disclose it without giving pain. She opted for evasiveness. "I do not believe Mr Hurst distinguished himself enough to be subject to gossip, Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley were thought very fashionable and charming but a little proud and vain."

"Quite unsurprising, but I see you have saved the worst till last. Will you not tell me what is thought of me?"

"Hertfordshire's opinion of you," she said carefully, "was coloured by your opinion of them."

"And you presume to know my opinion of Hertfordshire society?" he asked, somewhat affronted.

Elizabeth wondered who could have failed to observe his opinion. He had not tried to make himself agreeable: he had hardly made conversation with anyone - once sitting next to Mrs Long for half an hour without opening his lips - and was continually giving offence. "You spent your entire stay in Hertfordshire with one of two expressions on your face:" she replied, unable to completely conceal her exasperation, "indifference or barely concealed derision. You scarcely spoke ten words to anyone outside your own party and directly and indirectly slighted others. Your behaviour spoke quite eloquently, even if you did not."

"I am not sure you have interpreted my facial expressions correctly," he replied defensively. "I spent a great deal of time looking at you and I can state with certainty I felt neither indifference nor derision. As to my propensity for silence, I seldom talk a great deal, I am not a rattle and I dislike inconsequential small talk. Please let me assure you that it is not Hertfordshire alone where I behave so - I act much the same at the most prestigious balls of the London season."

"So I spoke the truth that day we argued at Netherfield, your fault is a propensity to hate everybody."

"And yours is still to wilfully misunderstand them. I do not hate everybody - I have mentioned before my discomfiture in the company of strangers. I am reticent and somewhat awkward unless I am in company with close friends and family...but I forget you have never seen me in such company." Darcy rubbed his forehead thoughtfully, and sighed again. "I shall endeavour to follow your good advice and practice more - I did not realise how poorly such behaviour would serve me. Tell me who did I slight in Hertfordshire? I cannot recall doing so."

Elizabeth gave a small laugh, then lowered the pitch of her voice in an effort to emulate his baritone, "She is tolerable I suppose...but not handsome enough to tempt me."

"Good God, you overheard me?"

"Yes, sir," she said lightly. "I would apologise for eavesdropping but as almost the entirety of your knowledge of my opinions seems to stem from the same bad habit, I will not."

"No wonder you had no thoughts of me as a suitor! I cannot defend myself - I can only stress that that opinion was soon forgotten and beg your forgiveness."

"Then I cannot withhold it."

"It seems ironic to me," he said, "that I have fallen in love with a woman who not only is one of the very few who sees more than just 'a great estate in Derbyshire and ten thousand a year' but also one to whom I have displayed only my very worst qualities. I can well imagine we have just begun a very long list of your objections."

"That is indeed very bad luck. But you are wrong. We have not just begun a long list, we are nearing the end: I have but one left."

"Which is?"

"Mr Wickham told me of your history." Elizabeth looked him in the eye, wondering what reaction would come from the mention of his name, with astonishment she saw his lips widen into a grin. That he could look on his past behaviour with apparent pleasure was incredible and she asked sharply, "How can you smile!"

"This is the first time in a number of years that I have smiled at the mention of that gentleman's name. I smile because this is your last objection and I am confident I can defend myself whatever he may have told you - because unlike Mr Wickham I can provide documentary evidence and witnesses should you happen to require them."

His confidence shocked Elizabeth. That he can offer such proof! Wickham had the air of truth about him, had freely given names, places, all his looks were sincere - but witnesses and documentary evidence!

"What did he tell you?" Darcy asked.

"That he was your father's favourite and following your father's death you had ignored his specific bequest and denied Mr Wickham a living in the Church, reducing him to his current level of poverty."

"That is close to the truth," he admitted. "Close enough to be believed by someone who is not suspicious by nature and who had seen me at my very worst. He failed to mention, I suppose, that at the time he had no wish to take orders and requested, and was granted, financial compensation in lieu of the living?"

"He did not happen to mention that, no," she replied in a small voice. She wished to discredit what he said - not to absolve Mr Wickham, but to acquit herself of gross misjudgment - but she could not. Mr Wickham did not have the monopoly on sincere looks; Mr Darcy's manner was open and genuine but with the added ability to substantiate his statements.

"He does tend to leave out those small, yet crucial details." Darcy's voice had a bitter edge to it. "My father left him a legacy of one thousand pounds and he received a further three thousand after resigning all claims to the church living. I have the documentary evidence at Pemberley and can send for it should you wish to see it."

The late Mr. Darcy, as Wickham had told her, had been very kind indeed and Wickham being granted such a considerable sum in lieu of the living showed his son was every bit as generous. That Mr Wickham should repay such liberality with vicious rumours was indefensible. If she had not completely lost her ability to evaluate people and situations, there was something more to this story.

"No, no - I do believe you, but with four thousand pounds he could live as a gentleman - not extravagantly, of course, but with some comforts - I cannot understand why he is now impoverished, or why he would speak of you so spitefully."

"That was about five years ago and had Mr Wickham been a different sort of man he could have lived off the interest, but Wickham is Wickham. I know not how he lived but if his life followed the same course it did when we were at Cambridge together, I would say he spent a good deal of money in inns and places of ill repute and lost the majority at the gaming tables. It took about three years for him not only to lose the money but also to run up considerable debt. He then scrupled not to contact me again, as his circumstances were very bad indeed, the living had fallen vacant and his opinion of taking orders had quite reversed. I denied him, of course, for which I hope you will not blame me. Mr Wickham would make the worst clergyman - I am afraid he does not come close to meeting the standards I have when appraising candidates."

Elizabeth was shocked by the charges of extravagance and licentiousness Mr Darcy laid against Mr Wickham - he had always had such a look of goodness about him. She tried to think of any instance that would contradict Mr Darcy's assertions, but she could not. Mr Darcy had known him all his life, she had known Mr Wickham for such a comparatively short time and knew no other who had a longer acquaintance. She knew nothing of Wickham that he had not told her himself. She bowed her head in shame. He had appeared to possess every virtue, but she knew no actual good of him. She had been wholly taken in by his charm. She owned to feeling no little anger toward Mr Wickham for having deceived her so completely, but for the most part she was disgusted with herself.

"I feel very foolish for believing him," she replied humbly. "I was vain enough to believe myself a good study of character - I have prided myself on my abilities - but I have been nothing but an imperceptive dupe."

"Do not blame yourself," Darcy said, looking at her in concern. "He has very charming manners and knows how to use them to his advantage. A great many have been fooled by him, including my father - else he certainly would not have left him a church living - and my sister."

"Your sister?"

"Yes, last summer," he had an edge of venom in his voice, and his posture stiffened, "she was deceived by him."

His tone alarmed her and she immediately recalled Colonel Fitzwilliam's concerned look when she had asked him whether Miss Darcy gave much trouble to her guardians. "You need not tell me ..."

"But I shall - I would keep nothing from you and I trust you not to repeat it." Darcy's manner was agitated. "Last summer I allowed my sister to go with her companion, a Mrs Younge, to Ramsgate and Mr Wickham followed them there. Working with Mrs Younge - who proved herself most untrustworthy - he charmed my sister. She believed she was in love with him and consented to an elopement. His target was undoubtedly her dowry of £30,000 with a secondary motive of revenging himself on me. She was then but fifteen years old, which must be her excuse."

Elizabeth listened with feelings of profound shock. Darcy looked at her and must have seen her distress as he continued more gently, "They did not elope. Providentially, I went to see her but a day or two before they intended to travel and she confessed the whole to me. Mr Wickham left, Mrs Younge was dismissed, and I was left to comfort my sister."

"How is she now?" Elizabeth asked quietly.

"She is much better than she was immediately following, but she is like a shadow of her former self - quiet, introverted and very scared of putting a foot wrong."

In what a different light did this place Wickham's attentions to Miss King! He was nothing but the worst sort of fortune hunter. She had missed every sign of his true character, acting blindly and subjectively. She had been flattered by his attentions and had allowed herself to be influenced by him. She ought to have been suspicious of his sharing his tale with her on so short an acquaintance.

When Jane had applied to Mr Bingley, he had stressed that Mr Wickham was not a man to be trusted. If Mr Darcy had been as dishonourable and corrupt as Mr Wickham had lead her to believe, his lack of principles could hardly have been concealed from society and Mr Darcy's friendship with Mr Bingley would have been impossible. Elizabeth had blindly ignored everything that should have warned her against Mr Wickham - and ungenerously discarded any evidence to Mr Darcy's merit. She stood abruptly and began pacing. How despicably she had acted! She had courted prejudice and ignorance - he imposed on her, he used her to help blacken Mr Darcy's character. She ought to have known better! She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think without feeling that she had been blindly prejudiced.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy said gently, as he rose from his seat on the log, "He is not worth your distress..."

She stopped pacing and turned to face him, "No! I am not distressed on his account but my own! It is utterly selfish of me, I know, when your family has suffered so. I thought myself a good judge of character but I have been so very wrong about him. I could not have been so completely blind had I been in love!"

"He is not the only one you have been mistaken about I believe," he said in a quiet voice.

"Yes, you are correct, my judgment has erred greatly:" she said in a deprecatory tone, "I have been mistaken as to Wickham, misguided as to my own abilities and have grossly misjudged you. I have a great deal to think about."

They stood for a moment in silence, Elizabeth still furiously reproaching herself, before Darcy said, "Miss Bennet, this must have been a very taxing conversation, and unless you wish to give voice to any other matter, I think it best if I escort you back to the parsonage, but before I do - the point of this conversation was to allow me the opportunity to overcome your objections to my suit - may I ask---"

"Mr Darcy! Please do not ask if you can court me!"